Supernatural: A Breath between Souls
by firefly925
Summary: What would it really be like to be suddenly swept into Sam and Dean's tumultuous world? Experience an action-packed supernatural adventure through the eyes of Rori, a young woman who's normal, boring life catapults into chaos the day she finds a piece of paper with a name stitched in golden thread... Set roughly during Season 6's Soulless!Sam era, but better.
1. Chapter 1 - Soul Ticket

_**Hey there, thanks so much for checking out my story! The complete story is going to be quite long, full of many twists and turns, but I'll just be posting one chapter at a time (especially as I am still working on some of the chapters!). This is the very first fanfic story that I have shared, and if you enjoy it and favourite, follow or leave me a comment, you will honestly make my day!**_

**Chapter 1 – Soul Ticket**

Castiel stood on the splintered threshold of a small home, the owner unconscious in his arms. He made ready to fly back to the Impala, which was speeding into town with Sam and Dean. But instead, a squadron of police officers trained lights and guns on him.

"Let go of the hostage, and put your hands up," said a voice over a megaphone.

Castiel thought better of vanishing in front of this many witnesses, and did has he was instructed. He allowed the officers to handcuff him, and put him into the back of a police car. As the car drove away, he saw the girl, his "hostage" as the police had called her, being loaded into an ambulance.

Dean isn't going to like this, Castiel thought to himself.

**One Hour Earlier…**

"Groceries," Rori said under her breath.

She was standing in front of the refrigerator in her house, surveying its emptiness. She thought about calling friends to go out for a bite, and then had to remind herself that she didn't have any – at least, not in this area code. Being relatively new to this small town in western Canada, she still didn't know very many people here.

After pulling on her running shoes, Rori stuffed some cash into her jeans pocket and headed out into the uncharacteristically warm May evening. The sun was setting, but it was a safe neighbourhood, and the grocery store was only a fifteen minute walk away, through the park behind her house.

At the store, Rori picked up a few essentials, along with a bag of watermelon gummy rings, then headed out. It was now completely dark outside, though she still felt no chill in the air, even with just her purple tank top and jeans on. She followed the sidewalk back to the edge of the park, and then cut up the hill through the trees, a cloth grocery bag in each hand. Just before reaching the small clearing around the playground, she stopped – something was wrong.

There was a fight happening on the playground. Rori stared in disbelief for a minute before gaining the sense to duck behind a tree – it was shocking to her to see a fight in this neighbourhood. As she peered at the scene, she realized that these weren't just kids either; these were adult men and women, and were those swords they were fighting with? Heart racing, Rori quietly snuck around the perimeter of the playground, crouched low and hidden by the branches of the evergreens, still clutching her groceries. She had nearly reached the other side of the park, and was contemplating making a run for it back to her house, when a scream stopped her cold.

One of the men had been stabbed through the chest by an agile woman dressed in a suit, wielding a sword. A strange flash of light seemed to emanate from his body as she stabbed him. Maybe he had a pacemaker, Rori thought, the logical side of her brain desperately trying to make sense of the scene.

The wind was picking up, along with Rori's breathing. It blew bits of trash and paper from around the playground towards the trees where Rori crouched. One bit of paper snagged on the low branches of the pine tree she was hidden under, just as the moon peaked out from behind a cloud. The paper glinted in the moonlight with a strange, unnatural glow. Rori finally abandoned her hold on her groceries, and reached out for the paper. It felt soft, almost like well-worn silk, as she held it close to her face. There was writing on the paper, stitched in golden thread.

"Sam Winchester," Rori read aloud.

Suddenly, the paper flashed with a blinding light that hit Rori like a wrecking ball. She was knocked off her feet and hit the ground hard. Rori felt momentarily dazed – her hands and feet were tingling. Blinking, she sluggishly propped herself up on an elbow, and wondered why it was so quiet suddenly. She looked back towards the playground.

"Oh crap," she said.

All of the fighters from the playground had clearly seen the flash, and were all now walking towards the trees where she lay. Thankfully, it seemed they were still having trouble pinpointing her exact location – it was enough to give her a head start.

Rori's flight or fight response finally kicked in. She jumped to her feet, and careened through the trees, out of the park towards her house. She could hear the others running behind her, shouting to each other, but she didn't dare look back. Rori was athletic, and her head start, along with her knowledge of the area, aided her in reaching the front door of her house ahead of the pursuers. After a desperate few seconds of fumbling with the keys, she let herself in, and deadbolted the door behind her.

Leaning against the door, Rori let out a huge sigh, and put her hands on her knees to stop them from shaking. She looked down, and realized she was still holding onto the little piece of paper with Sam Winchester's name on it. She stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans. Then a bang on the door made her yelp. They had found her.

Rori bolted upstairs, and locked herself in her bedroom. She grabbed her phone and got into the closet, sliding the door closed. As she dialed 9-1-1, she heard someone break her front door in.

"There are people in my house," Rori whispered to the operator, as she heard several voices downstairs. "I need help. I'm at 402 Cloverdale Road, and …" Her closet door abruptly slid open, and a blue-eyed man wearing a trenchcoat put a hand firmly over her mouth.

Rori lashed out, but her swings seemed no match for this man, who kept making odd shushing motions with his lips at her. Now he grabbed her, keeping a hand over her mouth, and pulled her out of the closet. Rori didn't understand how he had gotten into her room when her bedroom door was still locked from the inside.

Fighting as hard as she could, but not getting enough oxygen with a hand over her mouth and nose, Rori started to hyperventilate. She heard people coming up the stairs, and then her bedroom door was kicked in. Just as she was blacking out, she saw the trench-coated man, who was still holding her, draw a sword.

Even while holding an unconscious woman, Castiel was no match for the demons who had stormed into the bedroom. He fought deftly, making his way out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and down the stairs to the splintered shards of wood that used to be the front door. Eight demons met their demise along his path.

Now standing by the front steps, he scooped the girl up into his arms, only to put her right back down when the police trained their spotlights on him. He hadn't expected them to be there. This case already had the premonition of becoming very complicated, he thought, as the police rushed forwards.

Rori opened her eyes in a white room, filled with early morning light. Blinking, she quickly recalled all of the events of the previous night, and took stock of her surroundings. It looked like she was in a hospital room, and someone had changed her into a gown. The digital clock told her it was 8:25am on Saturday.

Sitting up, she saw a police officer standing just outside the door of her room. She didn't seem to be injured at all, so she got out of bed, and padded across the room in her bare feet to the washroom. Her shoes and clothes had been neatly placed on a bench. She noticed the police officer glance at her as she closed the bathroom door.

Ten minutes later she had freshened up and dressed. She headed to the door to the hallway, intent on talking to a doctor about being discharged. But as she opened the door, she walked straight into a handsome man wearing a suit.

"Sorry, I was just…" said Rori.

"Pardon me. Sorry about that." The man made eye contact with Rori, and held her gaze for several seconds. He had a cleft chin and intense green eyes. He seemed strangely familiar.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Rori asked. The man broke her gaze, and looked down.

"No, I don't think so," he said. "Agent Hadfield, FBI." He flipped open a badge to Rori.

"Are you related to the astronaut?" Rori asked. Stupid, she immediately thought, letting her inner geek show to an FBI agent.

"What?" he asked.

"What?" said Rori. The man cleared his throat.

"Miss Jennings…"

"Aurora," Rori interrupted. "Or Rori. Please." She added a smile for good measure.

"Rori, can I speak to you in private for a moment?"

"Oh, of course." She backed up into the hospital room, and Agent Hadfield closed the door. Rori rushed headfirst into a recounting of all the events that she could remember of the previous night. When she was done, the agent sat down on the bed, and rubbed his face. He looked like he was contemplating what to say next.

"Would you like to go get a coffee?"

"Well, shouldn't I sign out with a doctor or something first?" Rori asked skeptically. She wasn't usually one for breaking rules. The agent was shaking his head with a slight smile.

"Already taken care of. One of the advantages of being FBI – less paperwork," the agent said with a wink. Rori frowned, unsure if she was being naïve to leave the hospital with this man. Something about his smile seemed insincere, as she caught his eyes again. Yet, at the same time, Rori had a strong feeling that she already knew him, and that she could trust him. Ultimately she let her logic decide - he had the badge, and the police officer guarding her room had let him in, so any other instincts needed to just calm down. They were probably still heightened from last night, Rori told herself.

"Sure, it would be nice to get out of here. I'm just glad it's all over," Rori said with an exhale. Rori thought she saw Agent Hadfield tighten his shoulders at her last sentence, but then he smiled again, and led her out of the room, past the guard. And with that, Rori Jennings was escorted out of the hospital, and into a 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

The agent drove them to a small coffee shop a few blocks away, and Rori ordered a large hot chocolate, with whipping cream and chocolate sauce.

"Make that two," the agent said, after eyeing Rori's mug. They sat down at a quiet booth in the back. He stared hard at Rori for a long minute in concentration.

"Do I have chocolate sauce on my face?"

"What? No, no." He dropped his gaze, and sighed before beginning again. "Look, there are some things I'm going to tell you now that are going to be hard to hear. But just know that I am choosing to tell you the truth, because I think you're a smart girl."

"Okay…"

"Just know that I am on your side, and that I'm here to help you. I mean that." The agent locked eyes again with Rori. There was something about him that Rori instinctively trusted, even though logically she couldn't explain why. But then again, none of what had happened in the past twelve hours was very logical.

"You aren't an FBI agent, are you?" she said wisely. The man shook his head.

"My name is Dean Winchester." Rori's eyes widened. Her hand dug down into her pocket, and she pulled out the mysterious piece of paper, stitched with golden thread. She held it up for Dean to read. "Sam is my brother."

An hour later, Rori and Dean were back in the Impala, on their way to the police station where Castiel was being held. Dean had told her demons were real, and that he and his brother Sam hunted them, with help from Cas – which, Rori learned, was the name of the man in the trenchcoat that Rori had encountered in her home.

"Well, Sam's had no luck getting Cas released," Dean said to Rori, hanging up his cell phone. "Apparently the local cops aren't too keen on turning over their prisoner to the FBI."

"Are you sure they'll let me drop the charges?" Rori asked. Dean was nodding.

"If the only witness pronounces the suspect innocent, legally they have no grounds to hold him. Trick is, they need to believe you."

"Don't worry, I've got the story down," Rori said, running over the charade Dean had suggested to her one more time in her head. She honestly didn't believe in this whole demons business that Dean had described to her, but she could at least believe the trench-coated man had been trying to protect her from the others who had broken into her house. And she could also believe that something odd had happened when she had picked up that paper with Sam Winchester's name on it – she definitely felt different somehow today. Her emotions and personality were still the same, but Rori felt like she had a new awareness – heightened instincts and reflexes that hadn't been there before. And she also felt a strong sense of trust towards Dean, despite the fact that he had completely unhinged her world in the couple hours since she met him.

Dean pulled the Impala into the police station parking lot, driving past several empty stalls to park at the very far end of the lot.

"Something wrong with those stalls by the door?"

"What, and risk some idjit denting my baby?" Dean sounded alarmed.

"Your… baby? Oh, you mean the car!" Dean frowned at her.

"She's not _just_ a car, you know." Rori put up her hands in mock surrender.

"Sorry, sorry."

"Okay," Dean took a breath. "Let's do this."


	2. Chapter 2 - Finders Keepers

_**Thank you so much to everyone who read chapter 1! I am working hard to make each chapter even better than the last. Please enjoy!**_

**Chapter 2 – Finders Keepers**

Rori followed Dean into the police station. As they approached the main desk, her heartbeat quickened.

"Gentlemen," Dean said, flipping open his fake badge nonchalantly. "I believe my partner, Agent Marshburn, has already been speaking with you?"

With a nod, Rori and Dean were quickly escorted down a hallway to an open office area. There, they were introduced to an overweight, balding inspector named Henrikks. Rori's target. Now standing in front of the officer she had to lie to, Rori felt light-headed.

"Inspector Henrikks, I'm Agent Hadfield, FBI," Dean said, extending his hand.

"Hadfield eh, any relation to the astronaut?" Dean glanced sideways at Rori, who raised the corner of her mouth.

"No relation. So, it seems there has been a misunderstanding. I've brought our vic, freshly released from the hospital, to clear it up." Dean turned towards Rori, who didn't move. "Rori?" Dean said quietly, gesturing with his eyes towards the inspector. He put a hand behind her back, and gave her a little shove forwards. It was enough to get her past her stage fright.

"Inspector Henrikks, I'm Aurora Jennings," she said, offering her hand. He shook it roughly.

"Oh, I didn't expect you to be released from the hospital so soon," said the inspector.

'Yes, well I was really lucky. If my boyfriend hadn't been there to protect me when those monsters broke into my house, well, I don't really want to think about what would have happened," Rori lied.

"I'm sorry, your boyfriend?" Henrikks asked.

"Yes, Castiel Smith. Agent Hadfield explained to me that he was being held here, that you thought he was one of the bad guys?" Rori felt her story gaining momentum. The inspector was now frowning and flipping open a report folder. His finger scanned down the report.

"It says here this man was arrested in an attempt to kidnap you from a crime scene." said Henrikks.

"Kidnap? No, no." Rori shook her head emphatically. "You see, Cas and I were at my house enjoying a quiet evening together, when a bunch of men broke in. I called 911, then I fainted, and Cas fought them off. He's so brave. He was trying to carry me to safety, that's when the police arrived."

"Miss Jennings, are you willing to write this down as an official witness statement?" Henrikks asked. Rori nodded, exhaling in relief that her story had held up. She sat down at the inspector's desk and began completing the form he handed to her. A few minutes later, Rori finished the paperwork, and Henrikks walked away to go release their prisoner. Dean leaned close to her ear. He smelled like Old Spice deodorant and hot chocolate.

"Good job. Now just remember to make it look like you know him when they bring him out. Remember, he's the one wearing the trenchcoat," Dean whispered quickly. Rori nodded.

After a couple anxious minutes, Henrikks reappeared, holding the brown-haired, trench-coated man by the arm. Rori quickly rose from her chair to meet them.

"Cas, thank god you're alright!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Castiel, taken fully by surprise, just stood there looking dumbfounded. Rori kept her arms around him, and turned her head towards Henrikks. "I have the best boyfriend in the whole city."

Castiel looked up at Dean, who motioned with his hands for Cas to respond. Cas cleared his throat.

"No, dear," he said in a stilted voice. "It is I who have the best girlfriend in the whole city." He finally returned her embrace. "Come here, you," he continued, pulling her up into another kiss.

Rori kissed him back, but then became worried when Cas just kept going. She didn't want to be the one to end it, though, for fear of looking suspicious. After a good 15 seconds, thankfully Dean stepped in.

"Okay you two lovebirds," he chuckled nervously. "Let's get you home, shall we?" He placed a hand firmly on each of their shoulders and separated them. Dean flashed a big, fake smile towards Inspector Henrikks, while guiding Cas and Rori towards the front lobby.

"Agent," the inspector called, halting their exit. Rori heard Dean swear under his breath. "Your partner is just finishing some paperwork for us. He should be right out," said Henrikks.

With that, Dean swiftly steered Rori and Cas outside, and across the parking lot to the Impala.

"Rori, great job," Dean said. "Cas, you should never, ever, be allowed to pursue an acting career."

Rori, feeling extremely awkward, now extended her hand toward Castiel. "Er, I'm Rori Jennings." Cas shook her hand, then looked at Dean questioningly.

"Am I supposed to kiss her again now?"

Dean looked exasperated. "Just get in the car, okay?"

Cas climbed into the back seat of the Impala. Rori was walking around to the passenger seat when she saw another man emerge from the station. He was wearing a suit very similar to Dean's, but he was several inches taller, and had light brown, chin-length hair. He quickly spotted them, and jogged over. When his gaze shifted to Rori, he came to a dead halt.

Now standing just a few feet apart, Rori's jaw dropped, and her breath caught in her throat. She was overcome by the intense sensation of looking into a mirror, but it was the wrong image staring back. The other man seemed to be having the same haunting experience.

"Sam!" Dean exclaimed, making both of them jump. "Can we not do this right in front of the police station!?"

Rori turned and got into the passenger seat, her nerves running high. Sam climbed into the seat behind her.

"I always wondered what it would be like to sit beside my own soul," Sam muttered as Dean drove out of the parking lot.

A short, quiet drive later, Dean pulled the Impala into an out-of-the-way motel on the outskirts of town. He quickly ushered Rori, Sam and Cas inside one of the rooms, and closed the door.

"Okay. Now just to get everyone up to speed, this is Rori Jennings," Dean said, motioning to Rori, who took stepped over a crumpled pair of jeans on the floor to sit on the edge of the nearest bed. "Rori was witness to a demon skirmish last night, during which, she inadvertently picked up Sam's soul. Rori has been filled in on the necessary details, and has kindly agreed to help us transfer said soul back to its rightful owner." Dean nodded towards Sam.

"Awesome," Sam said in a deadpan voice. "How do we do that?"

Dean looked at Cas. "Any suggestions?" Cas furrowed his brow in thought.

"The simplest thing to try would be to recreate the steps that resulted in Miss Jennings acquiring it in the first place."

Rori pulled the ticket, bearing Sam's name in gold, out of her pocket. "All I did was pick this up." She stood and extended the ticket to Sam. "Here."

Sam stared with intention at the paper that symbolized his soul, and then slowly reached out for it. All four of them held their breath. Sam took the soul ticket from Rori.

Nothing happened.

"Wait," Rori said. "I also read it aloud. It wasn't until I read it that anything happened."

Sam looked down at the ticket, and then spoke with purpose. "Sam Winchester."

Still nothing. Dean scratched his head.

"Okay, well there's still lots of other things we can try here," he said. Without warning, he pulled out a large knife with a curved blade and a worn, brown leather hilt. Rori instantly backed away.

"What are you doing?"

"Relax, nobody's going to hurt you." Rori wasn't convinced. Her eyes flickered to the door, but Sam was standing in her path. Dean must have sensed her panic, because he slowly laid down the knife on the coffee table, and raised his hands.

"Look, we've got lots of experience with this stuff. We can figure it out, but you've got to trust us," he said in a steady voice.

Looking at Dean, she knew she did trust him. While that still made no logical sense, she had always trusted her gut. She took a moment to steel herself before responding. "What do you need me to do?"

"Okay. Maybe it's a blood transfer thing. You each cut your hand, and then blood to blood, the soul has a path to flow through." Dean said, as he grasped his own hands together in demonstration. He looked at Cas. "That makes sense, right?"

"Seems logical," Cas said with a shrug.

"So you're just guessing?" said Rori in surprise. "You want me to cut myself open with a knife based on a guess?" Rori considered herself to be fairly tough, but violence, and the use of weapons she had only seen in movies, was totally foreign to her.

"It's an educated guess," said Sam. "Worst case, you get a few stitches. Best case, I get my soul back." His eyes bore into Rori. Feeling immensely guilty under Sam's glare, she wondered for the first time what it must be like to be missing your soul.

"Alright, ok. But someone'll need to do it for me. I just don't think I can cut my own hand open."

Dean tossed the blade to Sam, who made a deep gouge across his right palm without even blinking. Bright red blood began running down his arm. Then he tossed the blade back to Dean. Rori walked up to him and held out her own right palm. He put his left hand underneath her open palm, and then grasped it tightly.

"Ready?" Rori nodded. The blade slid across her palm, cutting open a wide, poppy-red gash. Rori winced at the pain, but did not try to pull her hand away. Dean let her go, and stepped aside. Sam stood in front of her, and extended his own bleeding hand. Rori grasped it tightly.

Several seconds passed. All Rori felt was the mild throb of her open palm. "Should we say something?" she asked.

"Sam, try the exorcism incantation," Dean suggested.

Rori raised her eyebrows as Sam began speaking in rapid Latin that she didn't understand… at first. After several sentences, she realized this incantation was familiar to her, like an old memory awakening. She joined Sam in reciting the incantation, word for word. When they were done, Sam slowly let go of her hand.

"Well?" Dean said anxiously, looking back and forth from Sam to Rori. But Sam shook his head.

"How did you know the exorcism incantation?" Castiel asked Rori.

"I don't. I mean I didn't. The words just came to me," Rori replied, as she began putting pressure on her bleeding palm. Dean strode into the bathroom, and passed Sam and Rori each a clean towel to wrap around their hands.

"This is interesting," said Cas, addressing Sam and Dean. "It appears that the soul possesses some form of memory from the original owner." To their surprise, it was Rori who next offered an insight.

"It's not memories. It's more like… instincts," she said reflectively.

They spent the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening, trying dozens of incantations, spells, and potions to transfer Sam's soul from Rori back to him, with no success. Now nearly 9pm, the three boys were seated around a small circular desk in the room, pouring over an old tattered journal. Rori had flopped herself on one of the beds, mentally exhausted from the day.

"What if it's like the crossroads demons?" Sam piped up. "They use a kiss to lock in a deal." Rori raised herself up on her elbows.

"Well it's worth a try," said Dean.

"Seriously?" Rori said. "Hasn't there been enough kissing for today? No offence," she added towards Castiel. Dean chuckled.

"Let's try this," Sam said, standing up. Rori shook her head as she climbed off the bed to stand in front of Sam. She was doubtful kissing would be any more powerful than exchanging blood. Sam bent his head forwards, and Rori stood on her tiptoes to meet his lips. She gave him a quick peck.

"C'mon, that was hardly a soul-transferring worthy kiss," Dean commented.

Rori glared in annoyance at Dean. "Maybe Castiel should demonstrate how it's done, then," she said sarcastically. Without hesitation, Cas began rising from his seat at the table beside Dean.

"Woah cowboy, she was kidding." Dean pulled Cas back down to his chair, rolling his eyes.

Rori sighed and turned back to Sam.

"One more time, then?"

Sam again leaned forward. This time, Rori made an effort to give him a proper kiss. And Sam kissed back with enthusiasm, but it felt cold and heartless. No, soul-less, Rori thought. Quite unlike Castiel's warm, though inexperienced, kiss from this morning. When they broke apart, Rori already knew it hadn't worked. She took a step back.

"It's late. Maybe we can just try again tomorrow," she said. "If one of you can drive me back to my house, I can come back here in the morning, and we can take a fresh crack at this." Rori saw Dean look at Castiel, who very subtly shook his head. Sam just stared at her stone-faced.

Rori let out a nervous laugh. "I promise I'll come back. It's not like I want to be stuck with an extra soul forever."

"It's not that," Dean said, suddenly looking very serious. "We can't take you home. As long as you have Sam's soul, it's not safe for you there."

"I don't understand," said Rori, her chest tightening. It was Castiel who replied.

"The demons who you witnessed fighting, the ones who broke into your house – they are after Sam's soul. Now we don't know why, exactly, but we do know they will not stop until they have it. Until they have you." He trained his blue eyes on Rori's widening chestnut ones. "They will surely be watching your house."

Rori felt dumbstruck – in the whirlwind of the past day and a half, she hadn't stopped to think there could be long-term consequences to her encounter with Sam Winchester's soul ticket. She suddenly felt very small and vulnerable. She hugged her arms to her chest, and tried to process Castiel's words.

"Rori," said Dean, pulling her out of her thoughts, "we're going to keep trying, and as soon as Sam's soul is out of you, it should be safe for you to go back to your normal life. But Rori trust me, you do not want to be caught by a demon. They'll try to remove Sam's soul from you, too. Only they won't care what happens to you. They won't hesitate to try cutting it out of you, and they'll keep trying, until you wish you were dead." Rori quickly looked up and met Dean's eyes at this last word. He continued in a softer tone. "This town is full of demons right now. We think it will be safest if we head out tonight."

Rori bit her lip. "Out where?" she asked quietly.

"In our business, we spend a lot of time on the road. We move from town to town, helping people as best we can," said Dean. "Right now, we're focused on helping you. We'll go someplace where we can stay hidden from the demons, and do more research."

"How long?" she asked. Sam replied.

"We don't know. We hoped this could be done today, but, clearly it's more complicated than we thought."

Rori began pacing in front of the motel room window, its blinds closed. "You're asking me to just up and leave, for you-don't-know how many days. I have to go to work on Monday."

Dean got up from his chair, and came over to sit on the bed closer to Rori. He spoke quietly, but with intensity. "Look, I don't think you understand the magnitude of the situation. We aren't asking if you'd like to come on a road trip – we're telling you that if you don't let us protect you, you will be captured, and tortured, and killed."

Rori was still pacing. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

"I need some air."

She quickly opened the motel room door and ducked outside. She crouched down against the stucco wall immediately outside their door, and put her face in her hands. The cool evening air made her feel less suffocated. She heard the door open again, but didn't look up. Someone knelt down beside her.

"I know, it sucks," came Dean's deep voice from behind the wall of her hands. "I get it, I do. But trust me, sticking with us is your best option here."

"So I just leave. Just like that, up and abandon my life." Rori kept her now-blotchy face hidden in her hands.

"If there was another way, I would tell you." An owl hooted in the distance. Then he added, "It might turn out that a couple more days, and we get this thing solved, and you can go right back to your life."

Rori raised her head now and looked at Dean. "But you don't believe that."

He sighed. "I think, it might take more than a couple days."

"Can I at least call my friends and family, and my work, so they don't wonder why I've disappeared?"

"We'll set you up with an untraceable email account. You can send a short message. But that's it. The less contact, the less danger they'll be in."

Rori nodded. "If we can swing by my house, I'll pack a bag, and we can go." But Dean was shaking his head.

"Rori, with all the demons who will be watching your house…" he trailed off.

"I can make it quick – I only need five minutes."

"I'm sorry, it's too dangerous."

Rori felt tears threatening to overcome her, for the first time since this thing had begun. "But I have nothing."

"Hey," he put his hand on her shoulder. "You have your life, and your soul. That's all that matters. That's more than Sammy has."

"Can you give me a minute?" Rori asked. When Dean looked at her skeptically, she added, "I'm not going to run, where would I go?" Dean got up and stepped back inside the motel room.

Rori leaned back against the cool stucco, as tears silently slid down her flushed cheeks. This is somebody else's life, not mine, Rori thought to herself.

When she was done crying, Rori walked back into the motel room, ready to accept her new destiny.

8


	3. Chapter 3 - Road Trip

**Chapter 3 – Road Trip**

Sam and Dean were packing their duffle bags – including several more weapons - when Rori re-entered the room. After dragging her eyes away from the long shotgun Sam was laying in his bag alongside his shampoo, she noticed Castiel was no longer in the room.

"Where's Cas?" she asked, confused.

"He had to go," Dean replied. Rori rubbed her eyes. She had been sure there was no back door to this room. I must be more tired than I realize, she thought.

Minutes later, Rori was sitting in the back seat of the Impala, the Winchester brothers in the front, heading south. Dean had offered Rori the front seat, but she had insisted Sam take it. She really wanted her own space right now, even if the back seat would have to do. It was nearly midnight, and between tiredness, and the knowledge that she was leaving her life farther behind with every kilometre they drove down the road, Rori felt numb. She lay down across the back seat, and tried not to think about anything.

"Hey, Rori," Sam's voice roused her. She realized it was light already – she must have slept straight through the night.

"Where are we?" she asked, sitting up. They were stopped at a gas station. Dean was standing outside, pumping gas into the Impala.

"Dillon, Montana," he said.

"Where?"

"Nowhere, really."

Dean opened the driver side door.

"Hey, look who's up. Need anything before we hit the road again?" said Dean, looking over the driver's seat. Rori mumbled something about a washroom, and climbed out of the car. Stepping outside, she immediately shivered – the weather was much cooler here. Still wearing just a tank top, she hugged her bare arms tightly around her body. As she was passing Dean, he held out a $10 bill. "In case you're hungry or whatever," he said.

Rori took the money, and headed towards the gas station.

"Hey," Dean called. Rori turned around, and caught a flannel shirt sailing at her head. It was Dean's – he was now just down to his grey t-shirt. She immediately pulled the shirt on, and wrapped it tightly around her body. It was much too big for her, but it felt soft and warm against her cold skin.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

After a short visit to the restroom, Rori walked over to the refrigerated beverages section, looking for a smoothie or something that could pass as breakfast. Looking at the glass fridge door, she saw the reflection of someone come up behind her. Rori turned her head and saw a teenage boy wearing a baseball cap, looking at the drinks in the same section. He nodded towards her. Rori turned back around, and took a couple steps to the side so he could access the fridge door. But the guy just moved sideways as well, so that he was still hovering behind her. Annoying, Rori thought to herself, trying to shake off an unwarranted feeling of danger, and focused on picking out a drink.

Suddenly, Rori saw the reflection of the guy behind her quickly raise his arm, a knife in his hand. Instinctively, Rori ducked and covered her head, just as baseball cap lunged forwards with the knife. Missing his target, Rori's assailant plunged the knife into the glass door instead. The entire row of glass shattered.

Shards of glass rained down on Rori's head, as she tried to crawl away. But baseball cap grabbed her arm. Rori spun around, rising from her crouched position at the same time, and bringing her leg up in a roundhouse kick. She landed it squarely in baseball cap's chest, making him stumble backwards and let go of her arm.

A second later, he had regained his balance. He looked squarely at Rori, and she yelped as his eyes turned completely black. He raised his knife, and advanced on her again. She was about to turn and run, but Sam appeared out of nowhere behind baseball cap, and stabbed him in the back. His eyes flashed with light, and he crumpled to the ground. Terrified, Rori took several quick steps backwards, when someone grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, ready to fight again. But it was Dean.

"Hey, it's okay," said Dean, holding her shoulders.

"What the hell was that!?" Rori's eyes were wide and her breaths quick.

"A demon. Same variety as the ones that broke into your house."

"But he was a human, just a kid!"

"Demons can possess humans. More often than not, they kill them and just use their bodies to get around," said Sam nonchalantly, standing above the boy's body and wiping off his knife. "A little tip – the black eyes are a dead giveaway."

"Enough chit-chat, we need to get out of here," said Dean. "Rori, go get in the car," he instructed. Rori did as she was told, with Sam and Dean right behind her.

Hitting the gas hard, Dean sped out of the gas station.

"What'd you think, Sammy?" Dean addressed his brother in the passenger seat.

"I'm pretty sure we weren't followed. Locator spell, maybe?" said Sam. Sam opened the glove box and began digging through it. "Weren't those extra charm necklaces still in here? Ah, here we go," he said, pulling out a small cloth bag. He shook a small, penny-sized charm on a leather string out of the bag, and handed it to Rori. "Put this on, it will prevent demons from locating or possessing you." Rori slipped the necklace over her head without hesitation.

"So a demon can possess anyone? Just like that?" she asked, shaking glass out of her hair, which was now a frizzy brown mess.

"Pretty much," said Dean. "Unless you know how to block them. We may need to get her tattooed, Sam." Sam nodded. "Nice kick, by the way," Dean continued, addressing Rori again. "You into martial arts?"

"No," Rori looked out the window at the tall evergreens lining the road. "Actually I have no clue how I did that. It was just, instinct I guess." She was shocked how well she had actually handled herself during the attack. She felt a tiny flicker of pride in actions. But it also scared her, that she could suddenly do things like roundhouse kicks and recite Latin incantations. And that these demon-things were still after her.

"I know how to kick like that," said Sam, breaking her thoughts. For someone who supposedly had no emotions, Rori definitely thought he sounded bitter.

Dean drove south for another four hours, finally stopping in Smithfield, Utah around noon. After hitting a drive-thru for some grub, he found a motel to set up camp for the next few days. It was near the border of a national forest, and seemed like a pretty peaceful spot.

Rori followed Dean into the motel office.

"And how many rooms are we booking today, sweetheart?" drawled the older woman behind the counter, who was wearing heavy makeup and eyeing Dean up and down. When Dean hesitated, Rori interrupted.

"Uh, Dean?" She motioned for him to step away from the woman behind the desk, who was now pursing her thin, fuchsia lips at Dean in overt kissing motions. Rori spoke in a low voice, so the clerk wouldn't hear them. "Would it be alright if I stay in the same room as you and Sam?" Rori tugged awkwardly at the flannel shirt hem, which she had tied into a knot around her waist. "I know that makes things a little awkward, but I don't mind sleeping on the floor."

"That's probably safest. As long as you're comfortable with that," said Dean, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking pretty awkward himself.

"I'm beginning to get a better appreciation for what you said last night, about sticking close to you being the best option for me right now."

Dean nodded. "I'm sure we can get a cot for the room. You can take a bed. Sam doesn't really sleep anymore anyways, not since… " Dean trailed off. Rori knew he meant since Sam had lost his soul, and felt a stab of guilt.

By the time they were done in the office and had found their room, it was early afternoon. Sam and Dean wanted to head over to a nearby library and do some research.

"Would it be alright if I stayed here? I mean, is it safe?" Rori asked. She was longing for a shower, and had eyed a little strip mall as they were driving, just a couple blocks down the road, where she could pick up some toiletry supplies. Maybe even a few pieces of clothing, she thought, tugging at Dean's flannel shirt again.

"Don't see why not, as long as you keep the charm necklace on," said Sam with a shrug. Dean nodded in agreement.

"And can I have some money?" Rori asked, feeling like she was asking her parents for an allowance.

"You planning on going on a major shopping spree while we're away?" Dean said jokingly.

"Not so much," replied Rori. "Shampoo and a toothbrush would be nice, though."

Dean pulled out a credit card from his wallet, and handed it to Rori. "Just do me a favour and buy some beer, too. No light crap, either." Rori raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"Who's name should I sign?" she asked, holding up the credit card.

"Oh, that one's 'Stephan Tyler', emphasis on the àn" said Dean. "Good one, eh?" he added to Sam, who nodded.

"Do I want to know who's card this is?" Rori asked suspiciously.

"We run credit card scams," said Sam without hesitation. Dean gave him a stern look.

"What Sam means is," Dean began, breaking out his flashy smile that Rori immediately recognized as fake, "that we occasionally use the credit system to allow us to continue our work. It isn't stealing, it's just long-term borrowing."

"Well, actually it is stealing," said Rori, immediately wincing at how nerdy she sounded. "But I get it. I'm assuming you can't exactly hold down day jobs and just take a personal day every time you need to go hunt a demon." Rori smirked slightly, picturing her own boss's face if she were to ask for a "demon leave day".

The boys headed out, and Rori walked down the street to the strip mall. She found a drugstore, and bought some essentials to get her through at least a few weeks. Then she went into the small local clothing store next door. She found a casual, knee-length skirt in a floaty watercolor fabric, and a ¾ fitted navy sweater. She also bought a pair of khaki shorts, a casual sage green sweatshirt, two plain women's fitted tees in black and light sky blue, a tribal print sleeveless top, a pair of pyjama pants, a cheap pair of sandals, and some underwear for good measure. In all, her purchases totalled just under two hundred bucks - Rori was sure Sam and Dean couldn't get mad at her for that, especially when she literally had no more than the clothes on her back. She was so looking forward to getting back to the motel to have a proper shower and put on clean clothes that she nearly forgot about Dean's request for beer. Luckily, she had to pass right by a beer store on her way. Arms full, Rori hurried back to the motel.


	4. Chapter 4 - Inked In

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has favourited or followed my story! I'm so happy y'all are enjoying it! Thank you for your patience in waiting for this next chapter - I wasn't originally happy with it, so I ended up rewriting most of it before posting. Chapter 4 sets the stage for the action-packed chapter 5, which I hope to post this weekend.**_

**Chapter 4 – Inked In**

Rori awoke to the sound of the television. From within the soft folds of her pillow, she recollected falling asleep on top of the bed, with her clothes still on, after attempting to wait up for the brothers the night before. Someone had folded the blankets over her.

Reluctantly, Rori sat up, rubbing her eyes – she was not a morning person. Sam was sitting on the edge of the other bed, watching the local news. She could hear the shower going in the washroom.

"Uh, good morning," Rori said awkwardly.

"Morning." Sam kept his eyes locked on the TV. The local news announcer was saying something about a second disappearance.

Rori climbed out of bed, and smoothed out her skirt. She hadn't meant to fall asleep so early, but sleeping in a car the night before while fleeing from demons hadn't exactly been restful. She stood clumsily between the two beds.

"So, how did the research go yesterday?"

"Oh, it sucked. We didn't find anything useful." Sam was now stuffing a donut in his mouth, still focused on the TV.

"Oh." Rori sat down on the edge of her bed for a minute, then stood up again. "Is there anything to eat for breakfast?"

"We finished off the Chinese food you left us last night. I think there might be some bottles of juice in the mini-fridge."

Rori was glad to hear the take-out she had ordered hadn't gone to waste. Walking over to the mini-fridge, she found a cranberry juice. As she opened the bottle, Rori noticed yesterday's local newspaper laying on top of the mini-fridge. Someone had circled an article half-way down the first page – the headline read "_Local nurse killed by gruesome animal attack in city park_." Rori took a sip of her deep red juice, and continued to scan the article.

"_After uncharacteristically abandoning her nursing post mid-shift, the remains of Mrs. Wendle were found yesterday in Heritage Park. The police are reporting the death as an animal attack, and have closed the small downtown park; however, the circumstances leading to her death remain mysterious. Coworkers say Mrs. Wendle was an extremely reliable employee who took her job very seriously. But she was reported to have been acting strangely before walking out in the middle of her shift at the hospital. Some nurses even report that just before she disappeared, Mrs. Wendle had been ranting about her son, who tragically passed away seven years ago, when…_"

A wide hand suddenly snatched the paper away. Rori snapped her head sideways, and came face to face with Dean. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was freshly shaven, wearing an olive green t-shirt and jeans.

"Hi, good morning." Dean folded up the newspaper and tossed it in a trash bin behind him.

"Uh hi, I was reading that." Rori raised her eyebrows at Dean's action.

"Oh you were? I'm sure we can find something better for you to read." He flashed one of his big, fake smiles. Rori frowned.

"That article about the nurse who was killed, could demons have been involved in that?"

Dean was shaking his head. "No, definitely not demons. That was just an animal attack. Shame, but those things happen."

Rori's instincts disagreed. "Are you sure? It sounded kinda weird. Of course, maybe if I finished reading it…" She took a step towards the trash bin, but Dean blocked her.

"By the way thanks for the Chinese food and beer last night. We didn't get back from the library until after ten, so it was pretty nice to have some grub waiting for us."

Rori glanced at the newspaper in the trash bin one more time, and then decided to let it go. If Dean didn't think the death was related to demons, then it was probably nothing more than a rabid wolf. After all, what else could it be?

She turned back to Dean. "You're welcome. Sam was saying the research didn't go so well."

"These things can take time. But we'll figure it out. We have more sources here in town to check out, and then there's a college with some half-decent lore historians in the next city over."

Dean walked over to the side dresser, where the room's phone was, and picked up the phone book. He started flipping through the yellow pages. "In the meantime though, how do you feel about tattoos?"

Half an hour later, Rori and the boys were back in the Impala, driving to the nearest tattoo parlour. She had changed into her khaki shorts and tribal print tank top – it was going to be a hot day. Rori was nervous about getting a tattoo – she had never had one before, and the anti-possession symbol that Sam and Dean had shown her this morning on their own chests wasn't exactly a small tattoo to start with.

"Do I need to get it in the same place as you?" Rori asked Dean as he drove.

"Not necessarily, just as long as it's somewhere… central," said Dean.

"What does that mean?"

"Not on a body part that can be cut off," said Sam from the back seat. Rori shuddered, and leaned back in her seat. She could almost pretend this was a normal trip, until the boys would say something like that. It kept reminding her of the gravity of the situation she had gotten herself wrapped up in. It scared her.

Dean found the right address, and parked the Impala at the little shop. Walking inside, they were met by a burly, heavily tattooed man with long black hair in a ponytail, and a thick mustache. Dean slapped a paper down on the counter. The anti-possession symbol was drawn precisely on it.

"Howdy. Can you do this? It needs to be exact – no artistic licence or anything."

The tattoo artist, whose nametag said 'Jag', picked up the paper, and examined it.

"I can do it. You getting this?" Jag asked Dean. Dean shook his head, and put his hand behind Rori's back.

"Nope, but she is."

Rori was sure Jag could see her fear as he eyed her.

"You a virgin?" Jag said.

"Excuse me?" said Rori.

"A tattoo virgin. I can usually spot them."

"Oh. Yes."

"Come with me," said Jag, standing up from his stool behind the desk. Rori, Sam, and Dean followed him to one of the tattooing benches. "So where are we putting this on you, sweetheart?"

"I was thinking here," Rori said, tapping the back of her left shoulder. "Will that work?" she asked, turning to Sam and Dean. They simultaneously nodded.

Jag the tattoo artist took a few minutes to prepare his tools and the drawing before he came back to Rori. She pulled her hair to the side, secured it with an elastic, and slipped the left strap of her tank top and bra together off her left shoulder. Jag had her lean against a bench pad. She felt so vulnerable.

"Y'all are welcome to stay," said Jag to Sam and Dean, "but you might get bored. It's gonna take a few hours to finish a tat this size."

"We'll stay," said Dean, to Rori's relief. She ran her thumb across the charm hanging around her neck, which she hadn't removed since Sam had given it to her in the Impala after yesterday morning's demon attack. She shuddered to think what she would do if a demon showed up before her tattoo was finished, and Sam and Dean weren't there. Rori hated feeling so helpless and needy – she took pride in being a strong and independent, smart woman. But in this supernatural world of demons, powerful symbols, and misplaced souls, trying to be too independent would only get her killed. At least I can be strong, Rori thought to herself, as Jag switched on the tattoo gun.

Three hours later, Rori's new tattoo was taped up, as her and the boys walked out of the shop.

"You know, I gotta hand it to you, Rori. Most people can't sit straight through that long a tattoo session, let alone a first-timer," said Dean.

"Well I was motivated," said Rori, grimacing slightly at her throbbing shoulder.

Back at their hotel room, Rori peeled back the bandages to examine the fresh ink in the mirror. It looked like something a gang member would get, not an educated professional with a mortgage. But if carrying Sam's soul wasn't a visible enough reminder, this tattoo etched into her shoulder sealed the deal for Rori – she was in this, like it or not.

Over the next few days, Rori spent time accompanying Sam and Dean as they looked into possible sources of research on the transfer of souls. Sometimes this meant reading age-old books at the library or local churches, other times arranging interviews with clergymen, historians, and academics, or doing internet research. One morning, as Sam and Dean were pulling on their shoes to go speak with a retired priest, Rori asked if she could stay back.

"No," Dean replied firmly.

"But why not? You let me stay back alone the first day we got here."

"Yeah, well we probably shouldn't have."

"Why do you want to stick around here anyways?" asked Sam. "There's nothing to do in the motel."

Rori looked out the window at the mature evergreens across the parking lot. "It's not the motel that I want to stay for, it's the forest." One look up at the boys' blank faces told her they didn't get it. She tried to elaborate.

"How often do you stay in a motel right on the edge of a beautiful national forest reserve? I just really want to get out for a few short hikes." The truth was, as an avid hiker and camper, Rori was longing to get out into the forest, and let the sound of the wind blowing through the branches carry away her worries about souls and demons and whether the jade plant on her kitchen table at home was still alive – just for a little while.

Dean unexpectedly pulled out his gun from his leather jacket, took apart the clip and dropped it on the coffee table. "Ok then, if you want to hang out alone, show me how to load the gun."

Rori just looked at it. "I, uh I don't know how."

Sam shook his head and walked into the bathroom to pour himself a cup of coffee. He sat down on the far bed and flipped on the TV. Dean picked up the gun, and slowly put it together in front of Rori, then immediately took it apart, and reassembled it again. She tried to take in each step, silently moving her lips as he worked.

"Now you," he said, handing it to her. The weapon was warm from Dean's hands, and heavier than she expected. It was the first time Rori had touched a gun that didn't shoot water or nerf balls. After struggling to put the gun together the first time, she repeated the process five more times, reliving a latent muscle memory in her hands as she went. By the sixth time, Rori put the gun together as smoothly as Dean.

She looked up at Dean for acknowledgement. "Did I pass?"

Dean rolled his eyes and took the gun back. "You can't kill a demon by loading bullets into a gun and showing him what a good job you did," he scoffed.

Rori folded her arms defensively. Her frustration in not being in control of the things that had happened to her over the past week – of her own protection – was beginning to bubble over. "In case you forgot already, I have a little extra something most girls don't, called Sam's soul – and access to some of his fighting skills and instincts along with it," Rori fumed. "Sorry Sam," she added over her shoulder, before spinning back to face Dean. "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pick up the aim and shoot part."

"Just show her how to shoot the friggin' thing already, Dean," Sam said in exasperation.

Dean stared at her with a hard expression for a minute, then shook his head and walked out the door, leaving it open behind him. Rori was worried she had pushed him too far, and that she was going to need a personal bodyguard for the rest of her life. But then he stuck his head back in the doorway.

"So are you two coming or what? There's a shooting range about half an hour from here."

Rori couldn't stop the smile from escaping the side of her lips.


End file.
